


Time Stops

by Fire_BornOfIce



Category: Heroes (TV)
Genre: Metaphor, So Much Metaphor, described in the barest detail, in-show character death, not explicit, very brief mention of a skull breaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-20 17:17:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21060314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_BornOfIce/pseuds/Fire_BornOfIce
Summary: At seven minutes to midnight, three things break.A skull.A watch.And Gabriel Gray.





	Time Stops

At seven minutes to midnight, I shattered and stopped and the one who got out of the taxi and walked away into a day I would never see was no longer myself.

Before that moment, that millisecond, I had been so consistent. So deliberate. So plain and obedient. Ticking through day after monotonous day, rarely deviating from the path set out for me. In the small moments when I thought to disobey the rules and laws I had been so strictly taught - made - to follow; when I rushed eagerly ahead a few seconds or tired, slowed and fell behind, careful, firm hands would take me and pry me apart and put me back together again. Neat and ordered and appropriate. Exactly as I should be. Exactly as everyone expected of me. Never straying. Never late nor early, always precise and on time.

I fooled myself into thinking this was what I wanted too. I pretended that this change was unexpected, tricked myself into fearing it, dreading it. 

But the truth is, I longed to change. What I craved was the ability to rush, to race ahead of everything else. I was capable of it, so why shouldn't I? Why should I hole myself back? Because it was expected of me? Because that's how everyone else behaved? But I was different. Special, I was told. Over and over. Why did they hold me back?

I suppose it was inevitable that I would shatter one day. Stress alone would have done it, in time. But I had help. All I needed was a little push. A slam against glass, a crack, a shatter... glass... window... bone... me...

My name may be obscured by the crack in my face, but it has never been more clear to me.

I am broken now. I am unable to fulfil the purpose for which I was designed. 

I have never felt more whole.

**Author's Note:**

> This came about because I was challenged on a writing course to write from an object's point of view. One of the options was a watch and so this piece came about. I decided to do a sort of dual narrative, where everything that applies to the watch applies to the person wearing the watch as well, and what other character does such a narrative better suit than our favourite slicey dicey murder boy?
> 
> Anyway, this show is my trash fire guilty pleasure and it feels nice to write something for it again.


End file.
